el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #15 (part I)
But there was no time to rest. . .
Even as Chance began to hop around because the adrenalin of the fight left him and he realized that it was damn cold and he was basically naked, a great clamor arose from inside the inn.
Martin ran back into the inn, and looked in the kitchen. Pots and pans were flying across the room. The utensils hanging from pegs on the way, sailed across the room one at a time. It looked as if some invisible force were moving around the room doing this.
As the Watch-mage cast hisDetect Magic spell to see if he could figure out what it was, Kazrack peered from behind him, and Ratchis looked in at the events through a rear window. He could see that it was a magical force moving about the room, and that its source was conjuration, but even as he was determining that it was a simple spell that posed no threat, the force leapt into the iron stove and banged around in there for a moment before exploding back out of it in the form of a small being of fire that cracked and moved as it came towards the two companions in the doorway.
Jeremy ran past them back into the common room where the bar-keep was drying mugs with a towel. He looked up from his chore, “Hey, what’s all the racket?”
“There’s trouble,” Jeremy ran about as if looking for something.
“More rat-things?” Gibb asked.
“What rat things? Jeremy asked as he approached the other door back into the hall, but further up he replied with, “Have you seen anyone suspicious besides my friends?”
The flame creature struck Martin with a flaming pseudo-pod and he cried out like a little girl as his robes caught fire. He turned and fled out of the kitchen doorway and back out the door past Chance and Beorth and throwing his flaming body into a snow bank and rolling around.
“What the hell is going on? Beorth and Chance said in unison, standing at the side door to the inn. And Ratchis came around the corner crying “Where’s the well?”
Karack thrust his halberd through the fire creature, to no avail. The flame-thing returned with another pseudo-pod, but Kazrack moved backward and avoided the blow.
Ratchis noticed that the well was beside the snow bank that Martin had thrown himself into and hustled over there. Martin got back up and ran back towards the inn, even as Kazrack scored a hit on the creature, which made it visibly waver for a second.
Jeremy came back out into the hall and began to open random doors looking for the spell-caster that he thought must be behind this. The flame creature struck Kazrack and set his tunic ablaze.
“Kazrack! Git aweh from the far,” Chance called from his vantage point by the outer door. “What are ya, stupid?”
Ratchis grabbed the well bucket and filled it with snow.
While Martin went into the common room, and Chance and Beorth stood there as if they were both blind, Kazrack continued to struggle with the fire-beast.
“What’s going on?” Gibb the barkeep asked Martin, noticing his charred robes and wet state “What happened to you?”
“What’s this about the inn being haunted?” Martin asked ignoring the question.
“Oh, don’t believe those stories,” Gibb said. “Uh…Is there a fire?”
‘See for yourself,” replied Martin. “Got a bucket?”
“Um,” sadi Gibb. Martin did not wait, he grabbed two mugs and filled them with dish water.
Kazrack cried out as the thing struck him with it searing tentacle of flame once again, and then began to retreat back into the kitchen.
“Git out of there!” Chance cried.
“Point me in the right direction, Chance,” Beorth said pulling his sword. “I have to help Kazrack.”
Chance turned the paladin towards the door and pushed him outside, making room for Ratchis who came running in with his bucket of snow.
Again Kazrack charged forward and drove his halberd blame into the flame thing, and it wavered and disappeared into a puff of smoke. Behind where it had been a figure seemed to be trying to put out the chopping block, which had been set on fire when the thing first emerged from the stove.
Jeremy could not see any wizard, so he decided that he’d better get other people to safety and ran upstairs yelling, “Fire! Fire! The inn is on fire!”
Meanwhile, Ratchis dumped his bucket of snow on the flaming chopping block, but for some reason ignore Kazrack who was now frantically trying to splash the beer dribbling from a beer tap on himself to put his flaming clothes out. Martin came running in and chucked the water at Kazrack, completely missing. Finally, Ratchis used his great strength to tip the table the chopping block was on and pour the snow on his dwarven companion. The fire was snuffed, but Kazrack lay there singed, wet and quietly hiccupping from all the beer he “accidentally” imbibed.
Ratchis lay his hand on Kazrack’s head, “Nephthys, heal the stone head of this dwarf who has fought for you many times.”
Kazrack immediately felt the worse of his burns soothed, as the skin magically grew over them.
Upstairs, Jeremy continued to run around knocking on doors screaming.
“Fire! There’s a fire downstairs,” he called. “Jana! We have to get our stuff and get out!”
The gentlemen who had been sitting at the bar earlier in the evening came stumbling out their rooms and ran out side in the nightshirts
.
Jana came out of her room and looked at Jeremy who was fracitcally grabbing as many packs and things from the room he shared with Kazrack as he could.
She sighed and went downstairs to see what was going on for herself.
Back in the kitchen, it turned out the figure who had been trying to put out the fire was this nearly dwarfish human named Stump, who was the inn’s cook.
“What’s going on?” he asked, as Chance led Beorth into the kitchen as well, and Ratchis helped Kazrack to his feet.
“It could be a mischievous spirit,” comment Beorth. “Have any children ever died here?”
“No. No children have ever died here,” said Gibb coming into the kitchen. “Stump! What happened?”
“I heard a ruckus going on outside and in the hall, so I came to the door of the kitchen to see what was going on, but as I walked towards the door I saw a gremlin run past the door down the hall. I hurried and looked and saw three gremlins disappear into the secret door,’ Gibb said.
“Gremlins?” said Martin.
“Secret door?” said Kazrack.
“Yes, Gremlins,” said Stump. “They were small and gray and wore red pointy caps.”
“The secret door leads to the storage basement,” explained Gibb. “The owners had it installed as a goof, I guess. No one is supposed to know where it is, but I think everyone in town does because at one time or another someone who works here has shown them.”
“Can you show us?” asked Kazrack.
As Gibb took the party down the hall to show the secret door, the three merchants came running down in their nightshirts yelling “Fire! Fire!”
Jana came down behind them, calmly.
“Is there a fire?” she asked Chance.
“Nut anymah,” said Chance. Jana turned around and went back upstairs.
“Stump, show them the secret door, I have to go catch up with our patrons,” Gibb said with a sigh.
Stump showed them how a section of wall near the stairs up, could be pushed in such a way that it slid out of the way on a rail, not really being stone at all.
“What’s down there?” asked Kazrack.
“Casks of wine and beer, spare dishes and utensils, dry food stuff, flour and the like,” Stump replied.
The party gathered in the largest room they were renting and talked about what they would do the next day. It was decided that Martin would go speak with the alderman and the group might spend some time resting to regain their strength sapped by the shadow creature – but to begin their investigation of the area below the inn the day after that.
As they got ready for bed Beorth said to Martin, “Everything is a big white blur now, instead of big black one.”
“Good,” said Martin. “Perhaps that is a sign of recovery.”
“Martin, I smelled something familiar before,” said Thomas’ voice in the Watch-Mage’s head.
“When and What?” asked Martin.
“Before now, and I don’t know,” said Thomas.
“Was it a plant or an animal?”
”I don’t remember,” said Thomas.
“I’ve been saving a hazelnut…”
“Ooh! Gimme the nut!”
“Was it a plant or an animal?” Martin asked again.
“An animal, maybe…maybe a person,” said Thomas.
“So it was a person from the Academy?”
“Maybe. Gimme the nut! You promised me the nut!”
Martin gave him the nut and Thomas greedily chomped it down.
“Gimme another nut!” the squirrel said.
“Later, Thomas,” said Martin getting in bed. “Tomorrow.”
Anulem, 14th of Syet – 564 H.E.
The next day, most of the party remained in bed as Jana went from person to person tending to their wounds and making sure they got the proper rest and treatment for what ailed them. Beorth awoke early and found that his vision had returned. Giving Anubis thanks, he ate a small breakfast and went exploring on his own to see if there were any local graveyards that might be a source for the haunting-like effects of the previous night.
Jeremy and Martin had breakfast in the common room, while Gibb went out to fetch the constable so he could be told about the events of the previous night, and so that he might talk to Martin the Green.
So after eating, Jeremy went to explore the inn and Martin met up with Maxel.
Maxel was a man in his late twenties, with broad shoulders, dark hair and a round face with patches of peach fuzz. He had bright green eyes, and a friendly smile. He wore a long sword at his side, but no armor and he offered Martin a large and calloused hand.
“I serve as constable here,” he said. “Gibb told me there was some trouble here last night with…ghosts?”
“Yes, well, we are not sure what the cause of the disturbance, but it is imperative that I speak with the Alderman,” Martin said.
“Well, perhaps I can arrange for you to dine with the Alderman tonight or the night after,” Maxel said, looking uncomfortable.
“I have been sent by the His Majesty Brevelan IV. I am a Watch-Mage,” Martin said, gathering his confidence.
“Oh, really?” Maxel said. “In that case I will take you to see him right away.”
Maxel led Martin into the town, where people were clearing snow from the front of their houses and seemed to be visiting each other and talking friendlily. Many people waved to Maxel as he walked by.
“Maxel, I need my hoe refitted with a new head,” one man called. “I’ll be by the shop this afternoon.”
Martin looked to the constable, puzzled.
“I am the town smith. I only serve as constable when needed, which thankfully since the orcs were cleared out of Greenreed Valley has been infrequently,” Maxel explained.
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Meanwhile back at the inn, while Kazrack and Ratchis continued to sleep to regain their strength and Chance and Jana found an unoccupied linen closet to spend some private time together in, Jeremy was pushing at the secret door they had been shown the night before and finally got it open. He took a lantern off the wall and crept down the narrow stone steps into the basement storage room, and began to carefully explore it, as he could see no other way out of it other than the way he came in.
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Martin and Maxel came to a humble cottage just off the center of the town. Maxel knocked on the door and after a few moments a young boy answered it.
“Hey, Phester, Your father home?” Maxell asked.
“He’s around back,” the boy said. “Feel free to go around.”
Maxell ruffled the boy’s hair, “You staying out of trouble?”
“Yes, sir,” the boy said with a embarrassed smile.
Around the back, a middle-aged man was mending the gate that obviously was used to keep animals penned in, but there were no animals there at the time.
“Henry, I have someone here that has to see you,” Maxel said.
“Really?” the man barely looked up. “Well, I kind of had my day filled up by fixing my pens, and I would like to get it done before my boys get back with the flock.”
“There have been strange things going on, and even if there hadn’t I have been sent by the King,” said Martin.
“You have?” The alderman looked up.
“I am Martin the Green, Watch-Mage and for the time being I am an emissary of the king, here to help with the hunt for the dragon.”
“Oh! You’re a Watch-Mage! Why didn’t you say so?” He wiped his hands on his apron and offered one to Martin.
“I don’t like to wave it around if I don’t have to,” Martin replied.
“Well, excuse me if I seemed rude, but I have a lot of people coming to see about the smallest things sometimes, and I need a way to avoid them,” He smiled an embarrassed smile that was the perfect reflection of the one his son had shown earlier. “Not that I shirk my responsibilities, but setting priorities and precedents are among the tasks of a leader. Anyway, I am talking to much and you aren’t all. I am Henry Horton, and I welcome you to our humble town of Summit.”
He turned to Maxel, “I assume you checked his credentials.”
“Um… Ahem…Uh”
“Here is my letter of introduction from the King,” Martin said, handing Henry the envelope. “And I also have a medallion he gave me that has his personal seal.”
The alderman looked at the letter and then handed it back.
“Come, let’s go inside and have some tea and be warm and talk in comfort,” he said.
“I would like that,” Martin said.
“Maxel, you are welcome to join us, of course.”
Inside, the alderman’s young son brought a tray with tea and small biscuits smeared in lard.
“You say there were strange things going on?” Henry asked, stirring honey into his tea. “Are you referring to the disappearances?”
“Disappearances?” Martin said, taking a bite of one of the biscuits.
“There have been a handful of people missing, shepherds mostly who have not returned with their flocks,” the Alderman said. “It started two weeks ago or so.”
“Really?” Martin said. “Do you think the events at the inn can be related?”
“No reason to think so. There have always been little stories about the inn, people jumping at shadows.”
“My dear sir, last night the shadows were jumping at people,” Martin quipped. “Something is going on. Do you think the disappearances are being caused by the dragon?”
“If so it has changed its behavior,” Maxell said. “All reports state that it attacks people on the roads mostly; Caravans and the like – Not lone herd boys out with their flocks.”
“Obviously this is going to take some measure of investigation,” Martin suggested.
“Well, the first thing we need to do is get your comfortable for your appointment here,” the Alderman said. “Maxel will take you over to the Widow Beatrice’s where she runs a boarding house. Then in the spring we can have a house built for you if it looks like you will be staying here longer.”
“The boarding house will be fine I’m sure, Alderman…”
“Call me Henry.”
“Henry…… but I also have companions who the king sent with me who may be using Summit as a headquarters in their hunt for the dragon.”
“I am sure the Widow Beatrice will have room, the young people she had staying there left a day or two ago,” Henry said.
“Do you think you could tell me the names of the people who disappeared, and where I could find their families? Maybe they can help provide a clue as to what is happening,” said Martin.
“Well, they came and reported it to me,” answered Maxel. “But if you think you might be able to learn something more from them, it’d be a good idea. Someone might even be able to lead you out to where they were last seen.”
“Why doesn’t Maxel take you over to the boarding house now, and then you can return with your companions for a late supper?” Henry suggested.
“I would be happy to return, but I am not sure how many of my companions will be able to as they are severely injured from last night’s unusual events. Could we postpone it until tomorrow?”
“That would be fine,” said the Alderman.
Maxel took Martin across the street and down two houses to a larger rectangular house.
The Widow Beatrice was a tiny little old woman. She greeted Martin happily and explained the rules.
“Well, it’s 15 cps a week for the larger room, which holds four, and 8 cps a week for the small one that holds 2. This includes two meals a day, but I won’t withhold ya some teas in the afternoon if ya want it – and of course curfew, one hour after sundown. I expect a month of rent in advance,” she kept a friendly look on her wrinkled prune face the whole time she talked. “Last kids to stay here were nice and all, but they took off without paying off the week. Nice girl, but she seemed mixed up in man’s business, which is never good. She was traveling with a pair of twins – odd little fellows, very talkative, very smart, wizards no doubt.”
“Was her name Maria, by chance?” Martin asked.
“Why yes it was?” the Widow Beatrice said. “Oh my! Is your name Martin the Green?”
“Yes, it is,” Martin replied surprised.
“Why, yes, she left a message for me to give to you. Told it to me right before she left; said it was really important, but for the life of me I can’t remember it.”
“Have you no idea what it was?” Martin asked with some urgency.
“Um, no…Well, something about you needing to know that she went somewhere to investigate something. She took them twins with her and there were two other young fellas.” The old woman scrunched up her face in deep thought, but came up with nothing more.
“Well, how long ago was this?” Martin asked.
“Oh three or so days ago, before the big storm,” Beatrice replied. “Wish I could remember what is was she told me to you.”
“I wish you could too,” Martin mumbled, and then added so that she could hear him. “Well, I must inform my companion about what I have learned and that I have secured us a place to stay while here in town. I will be back later this evening thank you for your time.”
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Meanwhile, Jeremy was moving boxes around in the basement, checking the brick wall for irregularities. In the very back corner on the right wall he noticed what seemed to be a seam that was three feet by three feet about one foot off the ground. It ran counter to the line of brick in the rest of the wall.
He felt around the seam, and then pushed hard and felt something catch and then release, as the square of false stone swung downward and into the darkness beyond. A draft of cold air billowed up and out of the hole, and Jeremy raised his lantern to peer inside, when from the darkness emerged number of bat-like creatures that seemed to be made of the darkness themselves. They silently swooped at him with their tiny red eyes glowing, and he tried to bat them away, but only felt their cold bites which immediately made him feel dizzy and uncoordinated; his joints and muscles felt tight and swollen.
Jeremy leapt up and out of the storage room, but the bat-things followed, biting again and again, until it was a struggle to have the coordination to get up the narrow stairs. The Neegaardian felt fear wash over him as he leapt through the first secret door and pulled it closed behind him. He stood leaning there against, breathing hard when noticed the black shadowy forms of the creature slipping through the door cracks, coming out into the hall to continue their chase.
Jeremy backed away from the door and turned to run into the common room and the shadow-bats followed. Yet, as he came into the sunlight streaming into the inn from outside he heard the a hiss like a small flame being suddenly snuffed, but drawn out as if it were a cry of pain. He dared a glance and saw that was the bats came into the sun it was as if they were snuffed out.
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Upstairs, Jeremy told Martin (who had returned soon after from the Alderman’s) and Beorth about what he had found and what had happened. They agreed that the others must be told and that these “gremlins” must have accessed and escaped from the inn through there.
“Didn’t we agree to not do anything until tomorrow,” asked Ratchis annoyed, and still feeling very weak from his fight with the shadow thing.
“Yes,” said Jeremy.
“So what the hell were you doing down there!?!?” He lost his temper, but his lack of strength made it turn into a wheeze from a bellow as the question ended.
“I figured, why waste time? I thought I ‘d reconnoiter a bit and be able to give us a jump on what to do next,” Jeremy explained.
“But now that thing is open down there and we don’t know what is going on and what might be down there, and we are trying to rest a day and recoup our strength!”
“We can just block it up,” reasoned the Neergaardian, clearly confused as to why the half-orc was so angry.
“Because now whoever lives down there knows we’re coming and they can make a plan to come after us,” Ratchis sat up in bed and groaned, swinging his thick legs over the side. “Like we’re planning to go in there after them.”
“But weh dunn ahve uh plahn,” commented Chance incredulously.
Ratchis growled and began to strap on his armor and get his gear together.
“So, I assume we’re going,” said Kazrack, leaving the room to get ready without saying another word. He seemed slow in step from his drained strength as well.
Ratchis grumbled as he collected his things, and Chance kept looking over at him as he put his own leather jerkin on and got his gear together.
“Whutze sayin’?’ Chance asked Jeremy.
“He’s saying we’re all going to die or something,” the Neergaardian replied.
”Gungta dah!? What’s goin’ on?” Chance sounded alarmed.
Ratchis swung around on the two of them. “I will tell you what is going on,” he frothed, pointing at Jeremy
“Because this one here is so damn impatient, we are forced to go into a situation that might kill us all!”
The Friar of Nephthys stalked out of the room.
Jeremy turned to Chance, “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”
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The party met in hallway outside of the first secret door, and after a delay involving what they should bring and not bring and who was strong enough to carry what, they made their way down into the basement, and Ratchis crept forward to examine the other secret hatch, and look with for tracks, before the others ruined any that might be there.
“There are small boot prints in here, like a child’s – and it looks like it was made by the kind of mud made by melting snow wiping dirt off a boot as it slides off,” Ratchis the others.
“Dahm, he’s good,” said Chance.
“Perhaps there is some truth to these stories of gremlins,” said Martin.
Ratchis explained that the tiny room beyond seemed as if it were naturally occurring and the basement must have just brushed it when it was dug. He also described how it led to a narrow and low passageway that seemed to slowly pick its way down.
It was decided they would follow it.
The way was long and hard. Beorth, Ratchis and Jeremy spent most of the journey crouch as to not bump their heads, and mid-way down Jana’s light spell ran out and she had to recast it.
They passed through a broader cavern that branched off into several more narrow natural tunnels. Ratchis spent a half an hour going over every inch of the floor. He found the trace remains of a campfire and half a muddy foot print that told him the way to go. After a short rest and eating some quick rations they continued.
Finally, after having traveled over two hours, the tunnel opened into a broad cave. Sunlight streamed down into the cave, and they could see a nearly plain of white ahead of them through a thick bramble at the very base of the bluff which they must be on the other side of and at the foot of. Again, Ratchis went ahead, down to the bramble and quickly found sight of the small boot prints in the fresh snow. They could be easily followed. He led the way.
The traveled northward along the edge of the large circular ridge that made Green Reed Valley. After marching for over an hour they saw what looked to be a column of steam or smoke several miles away to the west.
They continued onward, traveling through a nearly perfectly round tunnel through the ridge and out to the north.
On the other side, there was thick pine forest interspersed with pockets of barren deciduous trees. Ratchis continued on, and the party followed him, only stopping when he waved a hand and then hopped forward to examine some patch of ground. By now Ra’s Glory was very low in west and the shadows were long, but finally they came to something.
In one large patch of barren deciduous trees they found an area penned in by branches and vine in such a way that there was a canopy of snow over one small round area about 60 feet in diameter. Within, there was only random patches of snow, and there was pool where run off collected down a tree half-uprooted.
Within a dirt track led to a earthen home, whose walls were supported by the bowing roots of the half-rooted tree. They still sunk way down into the earth providing strength. It had a little rounded door and a small round window and a metal chimney sticking out of the top.
“What do we do now?” Ratchis asked.
“Politely knock on the door?” Martin suggested. Ratchis scowled.
“It looks like a halfling house, I think,” said Beorth,. “Or what I have heard they look like.”
“Or a gnome’s house,” said Ratchis.
“Gnomes!” cried Thomas’ voice in Martin’s head.
“What about them, Thomas?” Martin replied
“That is what I smelled that time before in the other place in the town,” Thomas chittered.
“Do you smell it here?” Martin asked.
“Uh, no… Maybe…” The familiar began to sniff the air. “Maybe I can sniff better with a nut in my tummy.”
Martin fed him a hazelnut.
The party approached the small house. Kazrack looked in the window, while Martin sent in Thomas to have a look and a sniff around.
“Gnomes! Smells like gnomes!” Thomas cried in Martin’s head.
“Any in there?” Martin asked.
“Nope.”
Ratchis and Martin went inside. The little place held four small bunks, a large trunk in the center covered with a table cloth, a pot-bellied stove, a pile of wood and a food store. They looked around a bit and Kazrack and Jeremy came in a few moments later and the tiny place was crowded.
“Um, guys,” Jana called from outside. “Could you come out here?”
Jeremy came out first, and a voice said from the edge of the clearing in the thick bramble that formed its border.
“Get to the center of the clearing and please don’t make any funny moves. We don’t want to have to hurt anybody.” The voice was nasal, and spoke quickly.
“Who are you?” Kazrack called out, coming outside.
Martin followed, but mentally commanded Thomas to stay in the house.
“Gnomes!” Thomas said.
Ratchis hesitated inside.
“Please come out where we can see you,” the voice called again. “And gather in the center. You have weapons trained on you, if you were wondering, and there are more than us than there are of you.”
“Who are you to command us to do so?” Kazrack called.
“I am asking the questions here,” the voice said, and now they could see a small stout form in a chainshirt with a warhammer in his hands. He had skin the color of slate, a bulbous nose and wore a helmet. “What are you doing in this home of traitors?”
“Traitors? What traitors?” asked Jeremy.
“Those who were staying here have gone against the commands of our interim chief. We were to bring them to him, but we have found you instead.”
“Oh so this is all a big misunderstanding and we can go,” said Martin.
“Not so fast,” said the gnome. “You have still trespassed on our territory and were found in the safehouse of the traitors. You must be brought before the interim chief.”
“We followed the tracks of what must be some of your people, these ‘traitors’, here from the town of Summit where they were up to much mischief and endangered people’s lives,” explained Ratchis.
“Again, I ask, who are you?” Kazrack added.
“I am Captain Fistandlus Ironhammer of Garvan, and you shall be our guests,” the gnome said, as two more armored gnomes silently came out of the border of brush. These two had shortbows aimed at the party. “Please drop your weapon belts and any other dangerous items, and lay down on your stomachs with your hands behind you backs.”
Kazrack reached for his halberd which was leaning on his shoulder, and the gnomes’ bow strings tightened as two more gnomes breached the border of brush to point their own bows at the rear of the party. Ratchis pulled his crossbow and aimed it at the gnomish captain.
Fistandlus Ironhammer came forward towards Jeremy, who was in the front of the group a bit, with his hammer ready to strike. Kazrack waited for the gnome to strike to charge him with his halberd.
Chance lay on the ground, face down with his hands behind his back. Jana followed suit.
“Do you not recognize the authority of the Watch-Mages?” Martin asked, desperately.
“There is no need for this,” said Beorth.
“There is no need at all,” said Fistandlus. “Like I said, there are more of us than you.”
“Get ready to fan out and shoot if someone attacks,” Ratchis said through gritted teeth.
Two small animals with heavyset body, short legs, dark fur, and a bushy tail came through the brush, one on each side of the group, between the flanking gnomes. They growled menacingly. They were wolverines.
“You must be brought to see the interim chief and that means getting bound and blind-folded to be led the heart of our lands,” the captain explained. “You are trespassers, but we will have you as our guests. No harm will come to you, but we cannot trust you to not reveal where it is we live.”
“I will not be bound,” Beorth said, with something close to anger and lifted his staff into a fighting position.
“Why don’t you send one of your men to go fetch your interim chief, and we’ll wait here and talk to him when he arrives,” suggested Kazrack.
“The interim chief is away and will not be back for a little while. He cannot come here regardless. You will be brought to our village and wait for him,” the captain said.
“Well, if we’re not going to go with you and your chieftain will not come here, then I might as well wait here in comfort,” said Kazrack and promptly plopped himself on the ground to sit, stubbornly.
Jeremy sat upon the cold ground as well, and Ratchis let out a long low breath of frustration.
“We will not let ourselves be bound,” said Ratchis. “But we have no desire to come into conflict with you.”
There was a moment’s pause, and the gnome captain hesitated as if contemplating his options.
“We will surrender our weapon and come with you peacefully, if talking to your chieftain –“
“Interim Chieftain,” the captain interrupted.
“Interim Chieftain, then. If talking with him is required, and also it might be helpful to us,” Ratchis finished.
Again, Fistandlus Ironhammer paused, and finally he said, “Surrender your weapons and consent to be blindfolded. You may walk unbound, but none may see the way to our hidden home.”
“I consent,” said Ratchis.
“Me, too,” agreed Chance from his place face down on the ground. The rest of the group concurred, and everyone sheathed or dropped their weapons and then loosened their weapon belts allowing them to slip to the ground. More armed and armored gnomes emerged from the brush and collected the weapons.
The party was instructed to get on their knees, allowing a gnome to come up behind and blindfold each in turn. Before his eyes were covered, Kazrack noted that that there were at least 8 gnomes here. The party's weapons were collected, and Martin felt the magical bag he carried being tugged from his belyt along with his satchel of components.
They were then marched in a single file line.
“It’s amazing what this group has to go through to make an oath,” Kazrack commented.
After they had walked for nearly an hour, the gnomes began to chatter among themselves in their fast and high-pitched language.
“Dunn worry, Jana,” Chance said, in not enough of a whisper. “Ah won’t let any gnomes hurt’cha.”
“Shhh!” said Martin from behind him.
“Ah kin kick a gnome’s arse!” He added fiercely.
“Shhh!” Martin repeated more vehemently.
One of the gnomes walking along side Kazrack spoke to him in the dwarven tongue, “We have one of your kin as our guest as we speak. I am sure he will be glad to have another of his kind to keep him company.”
“Guest?” Kazrack asked, pleasantly surprised to hear his mother-tongue – but still slightly worried.
“Yes, he came into our territory almost a moon ago, and has remained our guest until the interim chief returns,” the gnome said, with a friendly tone. “My name is Obenhammer, by the way, but you can call me Obie, everyone does.”
“It seems strange that one of your kind would be traveling with these humans and a dwarf,” the Captain said to Ratchis, as they walked. “You are lucky you were not along or your fate might not have been so pleasant.”
Ratchis grunted in response.
“But do not worry, you are our guest now and as such will be treated well and are safe,” Fistandlus added. “You do speak well, where are you from?”
“Nikar,” Ratchis replied.
“Never heard of it,” the captain said.
“It is a place where humans, gnomes, halflings and even dwarves live together in peace.”
“Sounds like a terrible place,” Fistandlus said flatly.
Onward and onward they walked, the gnomes directing them to step over large stones and roots, or round deep snow drifts.
“We are going underground now,” Captain Fistandlus Ironhammer said after they had marched perhaps four hours or more. “Reach your hand out and we’ll guide you down. You big folk will want to duck your heads.”
They made their way down a short rock embankment, and soon they knew they were underground because the wind dwindled to almost nothing, and that air had that damp earthy smell to it. The marched for about another twenty minutes and then stopped.
“You can take off your blindfolds,” Captain Fistandlus said.
The party did just that and found themselves in a barren and damp cave. Two of the gnomes were working on getting a fire going, while another seemed to be digging up a sack of dried food stuff that had been buried in the corner. They must have used this place often.
“We camp here and continue our journey in the morning,” the captain explained.
Martin let out a strangled sigh of anxiety.
“What’s the matter?” Jana whispered to him.
“I left my spell book and my other gear at the inn. I didn’t know we’d be gone this long,” the Watch-Mage whispered back.
“Heh,” Jana said with a smirk.
They settled down and the large dried mushrooms were passed around.
“I assume the humans of Gothanius do not know your community is here,” Kazrack said.
“No, and we want to keep it that way,” said the Captain.
“Yeah, the humans are greedy and settle in land and then claim it belongs to them alone. They try to make everyone follow their laws, and they rip up the trees and plant their own crops and drive out the animals. It is horrible,” said one of the other gnomes.
“Yeah, humans are terrible. They have no respect and think they can own everything,” added another gnome.
“And more and more of them are coming into the valley, and that is too close, I think,” another gnome said. Obviously, this was a point of contention because there were a few moments of heated discussion in gnomish, that ended with one gnome saying angrily, “I wouldn’t trust a human as far as I could throw him.”
“Excuse me, but some of us have feelings, you know. Can you keep it down over there?” Jeremy said between bites of the bitter mushroom.
“It’s not our fault you’re human,” said Obenhammer.
“But if the humans are taking a land where there is nothing, what harm does it do you?” Kazrack inquired.
“Nothing?” the gnome Captain raised his voice for the first time, and then composed himself. “I find that strange coming from you, a dwarf, because that is such a human perspective. A human can look at a beautiful field, alive with wild oats, and shrews and moles and gophers; he can look at a forest full of trees older than you or I, with squirrels and birds and all kinds of animals and see nothing. Nothing but a place to rip up for their own profit. Is the earth itself nothing? Humans tend to build against the world, and not with it. It makes no sense. They will hunt an animal to extinction. They will pluck every flower of a certain kind for miles around if they think it is pretty only to let it die in a vase in their house. It makes no sense.”
At that same moment, Martin remembered Thomas. The squirrel was not with him!
“Thomas!” the Watch-Mage thought reaching out to his familiar with his mind. “Where are you?”
“In the woods somewhere, trying to find you,” the squirrel replied.
“What happened to you?”
“You told me to wait in the house, so I did. But when you did not come back for a long time I decided to try to find you,” Thomas replied.
“Are you okay?” Martin asked.
“I’m going to sleep now in a hole in a tree. I’m tired,” Thomas said.
“Okay, find me tomorrow, and try not to get eaten!”
The conversation with the gnomes was still going on…
“Could it be that therein lies the reason we ended up where you found us?” Ratchis proposed to the Captain. “We have reason to believe that whoever lives in that house we found endangered not only us, but the humans in the town of Summit.”
“And you did mention traitors,” Martin added.
“No one is allowed-“ one of the gnomes was cut off by a glare from the captain.
“That is none of your concern. You will talk to the interim chief and if he deems it necessary he will tell you what you need to know after you have told him what he wants to know. Until then you will be our guests,” Fistandlus said. “But we have more marching to do tomorrow, so we should all get some rest.”
“Is it much further to your home?” asked Martin.
“No, not far at all,” said the Captain.
But there was no time to rest. . .
Even as Chance began to hop around because the adrenalin of the fight left him and he realized that it was damn cold and he was basically naked, a great clamor arose from inside the inn.
Martin ran back into the inn, and looked in the kitchen. Pots and pans were flying across the room. The utensils hanging from pegs on the way, sailed across the room one at a time. It looked as if some invisible force were moving around the room doing this.
As the Watch-mage cast hisDetect Magic spell to see if he could figure out what it was, Kazrack peered from behind him, and Ratchis looked in at the events through a rear window. He could see that it was a magical force moving about the room, and that its source was conjuration, but even as he was determining that it was a simple spell that posed no threat, the force leapt into the iron stove and banged around in there for a moment before exploding back out of it in the form of a small being of fire that cracked and moved as it came towards the two companions in the doorway.
Jeremy ran past them back into the common room where the bar-keep was drying mugs with a towel. He looked up from his chore, “Hey, what’s all the racket?”
“There’s trouble,” Jeremy ran about as if looking for something.
“More rat-things?” Gibb asked.
“What rat things? Jeremy asked as he approached the other door back into the hall, but further up he replied with, “Have you seen anyone suspicious besides my friends?”
The flame creature struck Martin with a flaming pseudo-pod and he cried out like a little girl as his robes caught fire. He turned and fled out of the kitchen doorway and back out the door past Chance and Beorth and throwing his flaming body into a snow bank and rolling around.
“What the hell is going on? Beorth and Chance said in unison, standing at the side door to the inn. And Ratchis came around the corner crying “Where’s the well?”
Karack thrust his halberd through the fire creature, to no avail. The flame-thing returned with another pseudo-pod, but Kazrack moved backward and avoided the blow.
Ratchis noticed that the well was beside the snow bank that Martin had thrown himself into and hustled over there. Martin got back up and ran back towards the inn, even as Kazrack scored a hit on the creature, which made it visibly waver for a second.
Jeremy came back out into the hall and began to open random doors looking for the spell-caster that he thought must be behind this. The flame creature struck Kazrack and set his tunic ablaze.
“Kazrack! Git aweh from the far,” Chance called from his vantage point by the outer door. “What are ya, stupid?”
Ratchis grabbed the well bucket and filled it with snow.
While Martin went into the common room, and Chance and Beorth stood there as if they were both blind, Kazrack continued to struggle with the fire-beast.
“What’s going on?” Gibb the barkeep asked Martin, noticing his charred robes and wet state “What happened to you?”
“What’s this about the inn being haunted?” Martin asked ignoring the question.
“Oh, don’t believe those stories,” Gibb said. “Uh…Is there a fire?”
‘See for yourself,” replied Martin. “Got a bucket?”
“Um,” sadi Gibb. Martin did not wait, he grabbed two mugs and filled them with dish water.
Kazrack cried out as the thing struck him with it searing tentacle of flame once again, and then began to retreat back into the kitchen.
“Git out of there!” Chance cried.
“Point me in the right direction, Chance,” Beorth said pulling his sword. “I have to help Kazrack.”
Chance turned the paladin towards the door and pushed him outside, making room for Ratchis who came running in with his bucket of snow.
Again Kazrack charged forward and drove his halberd blame into the flame thing, and it wavered and disappeared into a puff of smoke. Behind where it had been a figure seemed to be trying to put out the chopping block, which had been set on fire when the thing first emerged from the stove.
Jeremy could not see any wizard, so he decided that he’d better get other people to safety and ran upstairs yelling, “Fire! Fire! The inn is on fire!”
Meanwhile, Ratchis dumped his bucket of snow on the flaming chopping block, but for some reason ignore Kazrack who was now frantically trying to splash the beer dribbling from a beer tap on himself to put his flaming clothes out. Martin came running in and chucked the water at Kazrack, completely missing. Finally, Ratchis used his great strength to tip the table the chopping block was on and pour the snow on his dwarven companion. The fire was snuffed, but Kazrack lay there singed, wet and quietly hiccupping from all the beer he “accidentally” imbibed.
Ratchis lay his hand on Kazrack’s head, “Nephthys, heal the stone head of this dwarf who has fought for you many times.”
Kazrack immediately felt the worse of his burns soothed, as the skin magically grew over them.
Upstairs, Jeremy continued to run around knocking on doors screaming.
“Fire! There’s a fire downstairs,” he called. “Jana! We have to get our stuff and get out!”
The gentlemen who had been sitting at the bar earlier in the evening came stumbling out their rooms and ran out side in the nightshirts
.
Jana came out of her room and looked at Jeremy who was fracitcally grabbing as many packs and things from the room he shared with Kazrack as he could.
She sighed and went downstairs to see what was going on for herself.
Back in the kitchen, it turned out the figure who had been trying to put out the fire was this nearly dwarfish human named Stump, who was the inn’s cook.
“What’s going on?” he asked, as Chance led Beorth into the kitchen as well, and Ratchis helped Kazrack to his feet.
“It could be a mischievous spirit,” comment Beorth. “Have any children ever died here?”
“No. No children have ever died here,” said Gibb coming into the kitchen. “Stump! What happened?”
“I heard a ruckus going on outside and in the hall, so I came to the door of the kitchen to see what was going on, but as I walked towards the door I saw a gremlin run past the door down the hall. I hurried and looked and saw three gremlins disappear into the secret door,’ Gibb said.
“Gremlins?” said Martin.
“Secret door?” said Kazrack.
“Yes, Gremlins,” said Stump. “They were small and gray and wore red pointy caps.”
“The secret door leads to the storage basement,” explained Gibb. “The owners had it installed as a goof, I guess. No one is supposed to know where it is, but I think everyone in town does because at one time or another someone who works here has shown them.”
“Can you show us?” asked Kazrack.
As Gibb took the party down the hall to show the secret door, the three merchants came running down in their nightshirts yelling “Fire! Fire!”
Jana came down behind them, calmly.
“Is there a fire?” she asked Chance.
“Nut anymah,” said Chance. Jana turned around and went back upstairs.
“Stump, show them the secret door, I have to go catch up with our patrons,” Gibb said with a sigh.
Stump showed them how a section of wall near the stairs up, could be pushed in such a way that it slid out of the way on a rail, not really being stone at all.
“What’s down there?” asked Kazrack.
“Casks of wine and beer, spare dishes and utensils, dry food stuff, flour and the like,” Stump replied.
The party gathered in the largest room they were renting and talked about what they would do the next day. It was decided that Martin would go speak with the alderman and the group might spend some time resting to regain their strength sapped by the shadow creature – but to begin their investigation of the area below the inn the day after that.
As they got ready for bed Beorth said to Martin, “Everything is a big white blur now, instead of big black one.”
“Good,” said Martin. “Perhaps that is a sign of recovery.”
“Martin, I smelled something familiar before,” said Thomas’ voice in the Watch-Mage’s head.
“When and What?” asked Martin.
“Before now, and I don’t know,” said Thomas.
“Was it a plant or an animal?”
”I don’t remember,” said Thomas.
“I’ve been saving a hazelnut…”
“Ooh! Gimme the nut!”
“Was it a plant or an animal?” Martin asked again.
“An animal, maybe…maybe a person,” said Thomas.
“So it was a person from the Academy?”
“Maybe. Gimme the nut! You promised me the nut!”
Martin gave him the nut and Thomas greedily chomped it down.
“Gimme another nut!” the squirrel said.
“Later, Thomas,” said Martin getting in bed. “Tomorrow.”
Anulem, 14th of Syet – 564 H.E.
The next day, most of the party remained in bed as Jana went from person to person tending to their wounds and making sure they got the proper rest and treatment for what ailed them. Beorth awoke early and found that his vision had returned. Giving Anubis thanks, he ate a small breakfast and went exploring on his own to see if there were any local graveyards that might be a source for the haunting-like effects of the previous night.
Jeremy and Martin had breakfast in the common room, while Gibb went out to fetch the constable so he could be told about the events of the previous night, and so that he might talk to Martin the Green.
So after eating, Jeremy went to explore the inn and Martin met up with Maxel.
Maxel was a man in his late twenties, with broad shoulders, dark hair and a round face with patches of peach fuzz. He had bright green eyes, and a friendly smile. He wore a long sword at his side, but no armor and he offered Martin a large and calloused hand.
“I serve as constable here,” he said. “Gibb told me there was some trouble here last night with…ghosts?”
“Yes, well, we are not sure what the cause of the disturbance, but it is imperative that I speak with the Alderman,” Martin said.
“Well, perhaps I can arrange for you to dine with the Alderman tonight or the night after,” Maxel said, looking uncomfortable.
“I have been sent by the His Majesty Brevelan IV. I am a Watch-Mage,” Martin said, gathering his confidence.
“Oh, really?” Maxel said. “In that case I will take you to see him right away.”
Maxel led Martin into the town, where people were clearing snow from the front of their houses and seemed to be visiting each other and talking friendlily. Many people waved to Maxel as he walked by.
“Maxel, I need my hoe refitted with a new head,” one man called. “I’ll be by the shop this afternoon.”
Martin looked to the constable, puzzled.
“I am the town smith. I only serve as constable when needed, which thankfully since the orcs were cleared out of Greenreed Valley has been infrequently,” Maxel explained.
----------
Meanwhile back at the inn, while Kazrack and Ratchis continued to sleep to regain their strength and Chance and Jana found an unoccupied linen closet to spend some private time together in, Jeremy was pushing at the secret door they had been shown the night before and finally got it open. He took a lantern off the wall and crept down the narrow stone steps into the basement storage room, and began to carefully explore it, as he could see no other way out of it other than the way he came in.
------------
Martin and Maxel came to a humble cottage just off the center of the town. Maxel knocked on the door and after a few moments a young boy answered it.
“Hey, Phester, Your father home?” Maxell asked.
“He’s around back,” the boy said. “Feel free to go around.”
Maxell ruffled the boy’s hair, “You staying out of trouble?”
“Yes, sir,” the boy said with a embarrassed smile.
Around the back, a middle-aged man was mending the gate that obviously was used to keep animals penned in, but there were no animals there at the time.
“Henry, I have someone here that has to see you,” Maxel said.
“Really?” the man barely looked up. “Well, I kind of had my day filled up by fixing my pens, and I would like to get it done before my boys get back with the flock.”
“There have been strange things going on, and even if there hadn’t I have been sent by the King,” said Martin.
“You have?” The alderman looked up.
“I am Martin the Green, Watch-Mage and for the time being I am an emissary of the king, here to help with the hunt for the dragon.”
“Oh! You’re a Watch-Mage! Why didn’t you say so?” He wiped his hands on his apron and offered one to Martin.
“I don’t like to wave it around if I don’t have to,” Martin replied.
“Well, excuse me if I seemed rude, but I have a lot of people coming to see about the smallest things sometimes, and I need a way to avoid them,” He smiled an embarrassed smile that was the perfect reflection of the one his son had shown earlier. “Not that I shirk my responsibilities, but setting priorities and precedents are among the tasks of a leader. Anyway, I am talking to much and you aren’t all. I am Henry Horton, and I welcome you to our humble town of Summit.”
He turned to Maxel, “I assume you checked his credentials.”
“Um… Ahem…Uh”
“Here is my letter of introduction from the King,” Martin said, handing Henry the envelope. “And I also have a medallion he gave me that has his personal seal.”
The alderman looked at the letter and then handed it back.
“Come, let’s go inside and have some tea and be warm and talk in comfort,” he said.
“I would like that,” Martin said.
“Maxel, you are welcome to join us, of course.”
Inside, the alderman’s young son brought a tray with tea and small biscuits smeared in lard.
“You say there were strange things going on?” Henry asked, stirring honey into his tea. “Are you referring to the disappearances?”
“Disappearances?” Martin said, taking a bite of one of the biscuits.
“There have been a handful of people missing, shepherds mostly who have not returned with their flocks,” the Alderman said. “It started two weeks ago or so.”
“Really?” Martin said. “Do you think the events at the inn can be related?”
“No reason to think so. There have always been little stories about the inn, people jumping at shadows.”
“My dear sir, last night the shadows were jumping at people,” Martin quipped. “Something is going on. Do you think the disappearances are being caused by the dragon?”
“If so it has changed its behavior,” Maxell said. “All reports state that it attacks people on the roads mostly; Caravans and the like – Not lone herd boys out with their flocks.”
“Obviously this is going to take some measure of investigation,” Martin suggested.
“Well, the first thing we need to do is get your comfortable for your appointment here,” the Alderman said. “Maxel will take you over to the Widow Beatrice’s where she runs a boarding house. Then in the spring we can have a house built for you if it looks like you will be staying here longer.”
“The boarding house will be fine I’m sure, Alderman…”
“Call me Henry.”
“Henry…… but I also have companions who the king sent with me who may be using Summit as a headquarters in their hunt for the dragon.”
“I am sure the Widow Beatrice will have room, the young people she had staying there left a day or two ago,” Henry said.
“Do you think you could tell me the names of the people who disappeared, and where I could find their families? Maybe they can help provide a clue as to what is happening,” said Martin.
“Well, they came and reported it to me,” answered Maxel. “But if you think you might be able to learn something more from them, it’d be a good idea. Someone might even be able to lead you out to where they were last seen.”
“Why doesn’t Maxel take you over to the boarding house now, and then you can return with your companions for a late supper?” Henry suggested.
“I would be happy to return, but I am not sure how many of my companions will be able to as they are severely injured from last night’s unusual events. Could we postpone it until tomorrow?”
“That would be fine,” said the Alderman.
Maxel took Martin across the street and down two houses to a larger rectangular house.
The Widow Beatrice was a tiny little old woman. She greeted Martin happily and explained the rules.
“Well, it’s 15 cps a week for the larger room, which holds four, and 8 cps a week for the small one that holds 2. This includes two meals a day, but I won’t withhold ya some teas in the afternoon if ya want it – and of course curfew, one hour after sundown. I expect a month of rent in advance,” she kept a friendly look on her wrinkled prune face the whole time she talked. “Last kids to stay here were nice and all, but they took off without paying off the week. Nice girl, but she seemed mixed up in man’s business, which is never good. She was traveling with a pair of twins – odd little fellows, very talkative, very smart, wizards no doubt.”
“Was her name Maria, by chance?” Martin asked.
“Why yes it was?” the Widow Beatrice said. “Oh my! Is your name Martin the Green?”
“Yes, it is,” Martin replied surprised.
“Why, yes, she left a message for me to give to you. Told it to me right before she left; said it was really important, but for the life of me I can’t remember it.”
“Have you no idea what it was?” Martin asked with some urgency.
“Um, no…Well, something about you needing to know that she went somewhere to investigate something. She took them twins with her and there were two other young fellas.” The old woman scrunched up her face in deep thought, but came up with nothing more.
“Well, how long ago was this?” Martin asked.
“Oh three or so days ago, before the big storm,” Beatrice replied. “Wish I could remember what is was she told me to you.”
“I wish you could too,” Martin mumbled, and then added so that she could hear him. “Well, I must inform my companion about what I have learned and that I have secured us a place to stay while here in town. I will be back later this evening thank you for your time.”
-------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, Jeremy was moving boxes around in the basement, checking the brick wall for irregularities. In the very back corner on the right wall he noticed what seemed to be a seam that was three feet by three feet about one foot off the ground. It ran counter to the line of brick in the rest of the wall.
He felt around the seam, and then pushed hard and felt something catch and then release, as the square of false stone swung downward and into the darkness beyond. A draft of cold air billowed up and out of the hole, and Jeremy raised his lantern to peer inside, when from the darkness emerged number of bat-like creatures that seemed to be made of the darkness themselves. They silently swooped at him with their tiny red eyes glowing, and he tried to bat them away, but only felt their cold bites which immediately made him feel dizzy and uncoordinated; his joints and muscles felt tight and swollen.
Jeremy leapt up and out of the storage room, but the bat-things followed, biting again and again, until it was a struggle to have the coordination to get up the narrow stairs. The Neegaardian felt fear wash over him as he leapt through the first secret door and pulled it closed behind him. He stood leaning there against, breathing hard when noticed the black shadowy forms of the creature slipping through the door cracks, coming out into the hall to continue their chase.
Jeremy backed away from the door and turned to run into the common room and the shadow-bats followed. Yet, as he came into the sunlight streaming into the inn from outside he heard the a hiss like a small flame being suddenly snuffed, but drawn out as if it were a cry of pain. He dared a glance and saw that was the bats came into the sun it was as if they were snuffed out.
---------
Upstairs, Jeremy told Martin (who had returned soon after from the Alderman’s) and Beorth about what he had found and what had happened. They agreed that the others must be told and that these “gremlins” must have accessed and escaped from the inn through there.
“Didn’t we agree to not do anything until tomorrow,” asked Ratchis annoyed, and still feeling very weak from his fight with the shadow thing.
“Yes,” said Jeremy.
“So what the hell were you doing down there!?!?” He lost his temper, but his lack of strength made it turn into a wheeze from a bellow as the question ended.
“I figured, why waste time? I thought I ‘d reconnoiter a bit and be able to give us a jump on what to do next,” Jeremy explained.
“But now that thing is open down there and we don’t know what is going on and what might be down there, and we are trying to rest a day and recoup our strength!”
“We can just block it up,” reasoned the Neergaardian, clearly confused as to why the half-orc was so angry.
“Because now whoever lives down there knows we’re coming and they can make a plan to come after us,” Ratchis sat up in bed and groaned, swinging his thick legs over the side. “Like we’re planning to go in there after them.”
“But weh dunn ahve uh plahn,” commented Chance incredulously.
Ratchis growled and began to strap on his armor and get his gear together.
“So, I assume we’re going,” said Kazrack, leaving the room to get ready without saying another word. He seemed slow in step from his drained strength as well.
Ratchis grumbled as he collected his things, and Chance kept looking over at him as he put his own leather jerkin on and got his gear together.
“Whutze sayin’?’ Chance asked Jeremy.
“He’s saying we’re all going to die or something,” the Neergaardian replied.
”Gungta dah!? What’s goin’ on?” Chance sounded alarmed.
Ratchis swung around on the two of them. “I will tell you what is going on,” he frothed, pointing at Jeremy
“Because this one here is so damn impatient, we are forced to go into a situation that might kill us all!”
The Friar of Nephthys stalked out of the room.
Jeremy turned to Chance, “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”
----------------
The party met in hallway outside of the first secret door, and after a delay involving what they should bring and not bring and who was strong enough to carry what, they made their way down into the basement, and Ratchis crept forward to examine the other secret hatch, and look with for tracks, before the others ruined any that might be there.
“There are small boot prints in here, like a child’s – and it looks like it was made by the kind of mud made by melting snow wiping dirt off a boot as it slides off,” Ratchis the others.
“Dahm, he’s good,” said Chance.
“Perhaps there is some truth to these stories of gremlins,” said Martin.
Ratchis explained that the tiny room beyond seemed as if it were naturally occurring and the basement must have just brushed it when it was dug. He also described how it led to a narrow and low passageway that seemed to slowly pick its way down.
It was decided they would follow it.
The way was long and hard. Beorth, Ratchis and Jeremy spent most of the journey crouch as to not bump their heads, and mid-way down Jana’s light spell ran out and she had to recast it.
They passed through a broader cavern that branched off into several more narrow natural tunnels. Ratchis spent a half an hour going over every inch of the floor. He found the trace remains of a campfire and half a muddy foot print that told him the way to go. After a short rest and eating some quick rations they continued.
Finally, after having traveled over two hours, the tunnel opened into a broad cave. Sunlight streamed down into the cave, and they could see a nearly plain of white ahead of them through a thick bramble at the very base of the bluff which they must be on the other side of and at the foot of. Again, Ratchis went ahead, down to the bramble and quickly found sight of the small boot prints in the fresh snow. They could be easily followed. He led the way.
The traveled northward along the edge of the large circular ridge that made Green Reed Valley. After marching for over an hour they saw what looked to be a column of steam or smoke several miles away to the west.
They continued onward, traveling through a nearly perfectly round tunnel through the ridge and out to the north.
On the other side, there was thick pine forest interspersed with pockets of barren deciduous trees. Ratchis continued on, and the party followed him, only stopping when he waved a hand and then hopped forward to examine some patch of ground. By now Ra’s Glory was very low in west and the shadows were long, but finally they came to something.
In one large patch of barren deciduous trees they found an area penned in by branches and vine in such a way that there was a canopy of snow over one small round area about 60 feet in diameter. Within, there was only random patches of snow, and there was pool where run off collected down a tree half-uprooted.
Within a dirt track led to a earthen home, whose walls were supported by the bowing roots of the half-rooted tree. They still sunk way down into the earth providing strength. It had a little rounded door and a small round window and a metal chimney sticking out of the top.
“What do we do now?” Ratchis asked.
“Politely knock on the door?” Martin suggested. Ratchis scowled.
“It looks like a halfling house, I think,” said Beorth,. “Or what I have heard they look like.”
“Or a gnome’s house,” said Ratchis.
“Gnomes!” cried Thomas’ voice in Martin’s head.
“What about them, Thomas?” Martin replied
“That is what I smelled that time before in the other place in the town,” Thomas chittered.
“Do you smell it here?” Martin asked.
“Uh, no… Maybe…” The familiar began to sniff the air. “Maybe I can sniff better with a nut in my tummy.”
Martin fed him a hazelnut.
The party approached the small house. Kazrack looked in the window, while Martin sent in Thomas to have a look and a sniff around.
“Gnomes! Smells like gnomes!” Thomas cried in Martin’s head.
“Any in there?” Martin asked.
“Nope.”
Ratchis and Martin went inside. The little place held four small bunks, a large trunk in the center covered with a table cloth, a pot-bellied stove, a pile of wood and a food store. They looked around a bit and Kazrack and Jeremy came in a few moments later and the tiny place was crowded.
“Um, guys,” Jana called from outside. “Could you come out here?”
Jeremy came out first, and a voice said from the edge of the clearing in the thick bramble that formed its border.
“Get to the center of the clearing and please don’t make any funny moves. We don’t want to have to hurt anybody.” The voice was nasal, and spoke quickly.
“Who are you?” Kazrack called out, coming outside.
Martin followed, but mentally commanded Thomas to stay in the house.
“Gnomes!” Thomas said.
Ratchis hesitated inside.
“Please come out where we can see you,” the voice called again. “And gather in the center. You have weapons trained on you, if you were wondering, and there are more than us than there are of you.”
“Who are you to command us to do so?” Kazrack called.
“I am asking the questions here,” the voice said, and now they could see a small stout form in a chainshirt with a warhammer in his hands. He had skin the color of slate, a bulbous nose and wore a helmet. “What are you doing in this home of traitors?”
“Traitors? What traitors?” asked Jeremy.
“Those who were staying here have gone against the commands of our interim chief. We were to bring them to him, but we have found you instead.”
“Oh so this is all a big misunderstanding and we can go,” said Martin.
“Not so fast,” said the gnome. “You have still trespassed on our territory and were found in the safehouse of the traitors. You must be brought before the interim chief.”
“We followed the tracks of what must be some of your people, these ‘traitors’, here from the town of Summit where they were up to much mischief and endangered people’s lives,” explained Ratchis.
“Again, I ask, who are you?” Kazrack added.
“I am Captain Fistandlus Ironhammer of Garvan, and you shall be our guests,” the gnome said, as two more armored gnomes silently came out of the border of brush. These two had shortbows aimed at the party. “Please drop your weapon belts and any other dangerous items, and lay down on your stomachs with your hands behind you backs.”
Kazrack reached for his halberd which was leaning on his shoulder, and the gnomes’ bow strings tightened as two more gnomes breached the border of brush to point their own bows at the rear of the party. Ratchis pulled his crossbow and aimed it at the gnomish captain.
Fistandlus Ironhammer came forward towards Jeremy, who was in the front of the group a bit, with his hammer ready to strike. Kazrack waited for the gnome to strike to charge him with his halberd.
Chance lay on the ground, face down with his hands behind his back. Jana followed suit.
“Do you not recognize the authority of the Watch-Mages?” Martin asked, desperately.
“There is no need for this,” said Beorth.
“There is no need at all,” said Fistandlus. “Like I said, there are more of us than you.”
“Get ready to fan out and shoot if someone attacks,” Ratchis said through gritted teeth.
Two small animals with heavyset body, short legs, dark fur, and a bushy tail came through the brush, one on each side of the group, between the flanking gnomes. They growled menacingly. They were wolverines.
“You must be brought to see the interim chief and that means getting bound and blind-folded to be led the heart of our lands,” the captain explained. “You are trespassers, but we will have you as our guests. No harm will come to you, but we cannot trust you to not reveal where it is we live.”
“I will not be bound,” Beorth said, with something close to anger and lifted his staff into a fighting position.
“Why don’t you send one of your men to go fetch your interim chief, and we’ll wait here and talk to him when he arrives,” suggested Kazrack.
“The interim chief is away and will not be back for a little while. He cannot come here regardless. You will be brought to our village and wait for him,” the captain said.
“Well, if we’re not going to go with you and your chieftain will not come here, then I might as well wait here in comfort,” said Kazrack and promptly plopped himself on the ground to sit, stubbornly.
Jeremy sat upon the cold ground as well, and Ratchis let out a long low breath of frustration.
“We will not let ourselves be bound,” said Ratchis. “But we have no desire to come into conflict with you.”
There was a moment’s pause, and the gnome captain hesitated as if contemplating his options.
“We will surrender our weapon and come with you peacefully, if talking to your chieftain –“
“Interim Chieftain,” the captain interrupted.
“Interim Chieftain, then. If talking with him is required, and also it might be helpful to us,” Ratchis finished.
Again, Fistandlus Ironhammer paused, and finally he said, “Surrender your weapons and consent to be blindfolded. You may walk unbound, but none may see the way to our hidden home.”
“I consent,” said Ratchis.
“Me, too,” agreed Chance from his place face down on the ground. The rest of the group concurred, and everyone sheathed or dropped their weapons and then loosened their weapon belts allowing them to slip to the ground. More armed and armored gnomes emerged from the brush and collected the weapons.
The party was instructed to get on their knees, allowing a gnome to come up behind and blindfold each in turn. Before his eyes were covered, Kazrack noted that that there were at least 8 gnomes here. The party's weapons were collected, and Martin felt the magical bag he carried being tugged from his belyt along with his satchel of components.
They were then marched in a single file line.
“It’s amazing what this group has to go through to make an oath,” Kazrack commented.
After they had walked for nearly an hour, the gnomes began to chatter among themselves in their fast and high-pitched language.
“Dunn worry, Jana,” Chance said, in not enough of a whisper. “Ah won’t let any gnomes hurt’cha.”
“Shhh!” said Martin from behind him.
“Ah kin kick a gnome’s arse!” He added fiercely.
“Shhh!” Martin repeated more vehemently.
One of the gnomes walking along side Kazrack spoke to him in the dwarven tongue, “We have one of your kin as our guest as we speak. I am sure he will be glad to have another of his kind to keep him company.”
“Guest?” Kazrack asked, pleasantly surprised to hear his mother-tongue – but still slightly worried.
“Yes, he came into our territory almost a moon ago, and has remained our guest until the interim chief returns,” the gnome said, with a friendly tone. “My name is Obenhammer, by the way, but you can call me Obie, everyone does.”
“It seems strange that one of your kind would be traveling with these humans and a dwarf,” the Captain said to Ratchis, as they walked. “You are lucky you were not along or your fate might not have been so pleasant.”
Ratchis grunted in response.
“But do not worry, you are our guest now and as such will be treated well and are safe,” Fistandlus added. “You do speak well, where are you from?”
“Nikar,” Ratchis replied.
“Never heard of it,” the captain said.
“It is a place where humans, gnomes, halflings and even dwarves live together in peace.”
“Sounds like a terrible place,” Fistandlus said flatly.
Onward and onward they walked, the gnomes directing them to step over large stones and roots, or round deep snow drifts.
“We are going underground now,” Captain Fistandlus Ironhammer said after they had marched perhaps four hours or more. “Reach your hand out and we’ll guide you down. You big folk will want to duck your heads.”
They made their way down a short rock embankment, and soon they knew they were underground because the wind dwindled to almost nothing, and that air had that damp earthy smell to it. The marched for about another twenty minutes and then stopped.
“You can take off your blindfolds,” Captain Fistandlus said.
The party did just that and found themselves in a barren and damp cave. Two of the gnomes were working on getting a fire going, while another seemed to be digging up a sack of dried food stuff that had been buried in the corner. They must have used this place often.
“We camp here and continue our journey in the morning,” the captain explained.
Martin let out a strangled sigh of anxiety.
“What’s the matter?” Jana whispered to him.
“I left my spell book and my other gear at the inn. I didn’t know we’d be gone this long,” the Watch-Mage whispered back.
“Heh,” Jana said with a smirk.
They settled down and the large dried mushrooms were passed around.
“I assume the humans of Gothanius do not know your community is here,” Kazrack said.
“No, and we want to keep it that way,” said the Captain.
“Yeah, the humans are greedy and settle in land and then claim it belongs to them alone. They try to make everyone follow their laws, and they rip up the trees and plant their own crops and drive out the animals. It is horrible,” said one of the other gnomes.
“Yeah, humans are terrible. They have no respect and think they can own everything,” added another gnome.
“And more and more of them are coming into the valley, and that is too close, I think,” another gnome said. Obviously, this was a point of contention because there were a few moments of heated discussion in gnomish, that ended with one gnome saying angrily, “I wouldn’t trust a human as far as I could throw him.”
“Excuse me, but some of us have feelings, you know. Can you keep it down over there?” Jeremy said between bites of the bitter mushroom.
“It’s not our fault you’re human,” said Obenhammer.
“But if the humans are taking a land where there is nothing, what harm does it do you?” Kazrack inquired.
“Nothing?” the gnome Captain raised his voice for the first time, and then composed himself. “I find that strange coming from you, a dwarf, because that is such a human perspective. A human can look at a beautiful field, alive with wild oats, and shrews and moles and gophers; he can look at a forest full of trees older than you or I, with squirrels and birds and all kinds of animals and see nothing. Nothing but a place to rip up for their own profit. Is the earth itself nothing? Humans tend to build against the world, and not with it. It makes no sense. They will hunt an animal to extinction. They will pluck every flower of a certain kind for miles around if they think it is pretty only to let it die in a vase in their house. It makes no sense.”
At that same moment, Martin remembered Thomas. The squirrel was not with him!
“Thomas!” the Watch-Mage thought reaching out to his familiar with his mind. “Where are you?”
“In the woods somewhere, trying to find you,” the squirrel replied.
“What happened to you?”
“You told me to wait in the house, so I did. But when you did not come back for a long time I decided to try to find you,” Thomas replied.
“Are you okay?” Martin asked.
“I’m going to sleep now in a hole in a tree. I’m tired,” Thomas said.
“Okay, find me tomorrow, and try not to get eaten!”
The conversation with the gnomes was still going on…
“Could it be that therein lies the reason we ended up where you found us?” Ratchis proposed to the Captain. “We have reason to believe that whoever lives in that house we found endangered not only us, but the humans in the town of Summit.”
“And you did mention traitors,” Martin added.
“No one is allowed-“ one of the gnomes was cut off by a glare from the captain.
“That is none of your concern. You will talk to the interim chief and if he deems it necessary he will tell you what you need to know after you have told him what he wants to know. Until then you will be our guests,” Fistandlus said. “But we have more marching to do tomorrow, so we should all get some rest.”
“Is it much further to your home?” asked Martin.
“No, not far at all,” said the Captain.
